


The Problem of Lust

by idola



Category: Densetsu no Yuusha no Densetsu | The Legend of the Legendary Heroes
Genre: Cum Swallowing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idola/pseuds/idola
Summary: Lucile Eris is the reason His Majesty's mood has been especially poor as of late. Though Miran wants to solve this problem at the root for the good of their country, it is difficult to put that into practice, given Lucile's appealing alternative - sharing the fruits of his and Sion's questionable relationship with Miran.
Relationships: Lucile Eris/Miran Froaude





	The Problem of Lust

**Author's Note:**

> it's miran day and if you think i am above posting three consecutive thirst fics to celebrate it, i will tell you now. i am not.
> 
> enjoy whatever the fuck this is :)

His Majesty seemed… off.

It was disheartening, to say the least.

When His Majesty’s mood was poor, his mind was not at its best, and when his mind was clouded the whole country could suffer. Gastark could get even further ahead in their unsaid race to capture Menoris for themselves.

It was his kindness… His fault was his overflowing kindness. Without it, this race would be as good as won for the Roland Empire. And without it… Without his kindness, he might rest a moment every now and then… 

Miran left Sion’s office quietly, sure to shut the door behind himself. He heard Sion sigh from inside.

His Majesty was tired. That much was apparent. What could he do to alleviate it? Such a thing might be easy for Ryner Lute. It would also be fairly simple for Claugh Klom or Calne Kaiwel. But for Miran himself? His options were limited, and even if he tried them all, he couldn’t help but think that they’d all turn up futile.

Despite his devotion to His Majesty, his words of praise to his king were met with grimaces and insults. His presence alone dampened his mood. Perhaps the best thing he could do in this case was to leave.

Though today wasn’t as bad as it had been in the past. Was His Majesty warming up to him? It was a strange thought. Still, even if he was beginning to warm up to him, his view of Miran was still cold at best, and there was nothing he could do now to change that.

Miran took several slow steps away from the door. Should he call for Claugh? That wasn’t a conversation that he could have very easily. He’d be treated as having a long list of ulterior motives no matter how honest he tried to be. Ryner was out of the country, and Calne would use it as an opportunity for gossip and little else… 

His Majesty was tired and there was nothing he could do about it.

“You look tired, too.”

…Duke Eris. What bad timing.

Miran would turn to face him, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to see him anyway. So he just spoke to the stagnant castle air. “I am not.”

“You’re disappointed. Because Sion doesn’t look too hot.”

“…His Majesty may make incorrect decisions if he is too tired to function. More sleep may be beneficial to him… or otherwise relaxation…”

“Those aren’t the problem this time.”

“You speak as though you know the issue…?”

“Haha. Of course I do.”

Miran heard a step.

A step meant that Lucile was allowing Miran to see him. This point always came in their encounters—sooner than later, he noticed, and wasn’t that strange for a being who could determine who could see him or not by his will alone? If it were Miran, he would choose to be invisible more often than not, he thought.

Still, that was irrelevant now.

Miran turned back to the door of His Majesty’s office. Lucile was leaning against it, watching him with eyes that were so rarely open. 

Lucile was… as beautiful as ever. He looked rather like the sort of person one saw in historical paintings and wondered, doubted, if they’d really been so beautiful in life. But this was real life, and Lucile was certainly the picture of artistic beauty.

“And what would the issue be?” Miran asked. Despite their… _odd_ relationship, they were technically on the same side. His Majesty’s wellbeing was crucial to both of their goals.

“I kissed him.”

“…You… what?”

Lucile laughed. Like it was funny.

Miran frowned. Nobles… were all the same. They found this sort of thing fun. Funny, even.

“Someone needs to put him in his place from time to time. Otherwise he gets cocky and treats everyone else like bugs.”

“What’s wrong with that…? Most people _are_ bugs compared to His Majesty.”

“I expected you’d say that. Oh well. He was nicer today, wasn’t he? Much more pleasant. I had to kiss him for that, so you’re welcome.”

“Had… to…?”

“Haha. You look really angry. But don’t get the wrong idea. He was willing… he just regrets it,” Lucile said, taking a few light steps closer. “Did you want a taste too? I doubt he’ll let you, but you can get seconds from me.”

Miran scowled.

Seconds. Like he was some kind of dog.

Lucile pressed his hands against Miran’s chest and stood on his toes, angling his lips up.

He should push him away. He should push him away.

But Lucile’s lips met his without any resistance at all.

His Majesty’s kiss… 

His body did the reacting for him. It emptied his mind for him, doing what he was expected to do to a mouth on his and nothing more. Except… except… 

Miran forced his eyes to focus. His hands were still at his side. At times like this he should place them on his partner’s back or shoulders to avoid appearing standoffish. But… 

Lucile exhaled against his mouth. Exhaled what could have been Sion’s breath. Miran felt his face heat up.

His Majesty’s… kiss… 

Lucile was a very quiet person. Sion probably hadn’t heard their hushed conversation, despite them standing mere feet from his door… and he probably wouldn’t hear even if he… 

“Mm, mmm…”

…For some reason Miran was getting hard. He supposed his body knew that was the only way to end this.

He pressed closer. Close enough to feel that Lucile was also getting hard beneath his loose-fitting clothes.

“……”

It felt good. The thought sent a jolt through his mind.

Where was he? What was he doing?

He was in front of Sion’s door. He was doing something unnecessary, given the situation.

This wasn’t the place for this, if there was any place it should occur. It wasn’t the time, either. Sion’s personal messenger often walked these halls carrying out orders. He knew that, yet he couldn’t force his body away from Lucile’s now that he had breath that could have been His Majesty’s in his mouth.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Lucile asked against his mouth. “You’re enjoying it. I’ll get you more next time. I’ll suck him off. I’ll hold his cum in my mouth. You can lick it out, little by little, and savor it all night…”

Miran’s breath hitched. His mind felt weak in some ways and too strong in others. He was supposed to be logical. He wanted to be. The problem was that it was sometimes difficult to discern what logic was and what it meant to him.

His Majesty would never forgive him for such a thing, but there were many things that he would never forgive Miran for. What was one more? He was not new to making deals with the devil.

“…Please,” he said. Was he ashamed of such a thing? Was it not just as bad as the nobles he was just disparaging in his mind?

It could very well be. He was a noble now, title and all. It was a poison. It made him like this. He desperately wanted that taste from Lucile’s lips.

“Okay,” Lucile breathed. “I’ll get it for you.”

Lucile disappeared without a trace.

Miran’s first thought was that it was rude. It was. One shouldn’t leave their partner unfulfilled after going out of their way to start something, yet… yet he couldn’t find the anger he was searching for in his mind. It was buried too deep beneath the lust Lucile had just instilled in him.

All nobles were the same. They were all the same, whether marquesses or dukes.

\---

There was something to be said about how this was the thing he was most looking forward to for the past month - not the military campaign in Runa, not His Majesty’s latest policy, not anything of the sort. Instead, he was looking forward to _this_ of all things.

Lucile appeared before him. He didn’t say anything, but he approached.

What had happened to his mind? Miran immediately hoped that their previous promise (if it could be called that at all) had come to fruit.

And it had. It did.

He accepted Lucile’s advances without complaint. Perhaps an onlooker would say that Miran was the initiator here, even. Lucile approached him, yes, but when Lucile was close enough to angle his face up and kiss, Miran did so.

Why did he crave this so badly? He was beyond asking that question. He would accept the easiest answer: he had become complacent and become the very thing he hated, a noble ruled by his own greed.

“…Mh!”

Was it really His Majesty’s? It was impossible to know. It was infuriating if it really was. To think that such a thing had crossed Lucile’s lips and rested within his mouth. It was warm, but was it because Lucile came to him immediately after, or was it because he warmed it with his own body, his own mouth?

It was impossible to say. The only thing he could be certain of was that he wanted it.

In the end, he was selfish and ruled by greed just like any other. He licked the corners of Lucile’s mouth. Lucile let him.

“…Mmh…”

Was Lucile enjoying this shameful display? It certainly sounded like it. The contents of his mouth were mostly spit, but he could still taste it. It had an overwhelming effect on his body, yet out of the two of them, Lucile sounded as though he was enjoying it more.

Miran pulled away. He didn’t swallow.

“…Do you like it?” Lucile asked.

Miran didn’t speak. If he did, he would have to swallow. He didn’t want to nod, either. He didn’t want to concede. He didn’t want to acknowledge that Lucile was the winner of their unsaid power struggle. For now, that is. He won this battle.

“I can get it for you again sometime,” Lucile said. “I can suck you off with it, too…”

Some part of him, one that existed only in the corners of his mind, the very edges, somewhere he rarely used… understood that this contributed greatly to His Majesty’s worsening mental health. But he was selfish, in the end. He was as selfish as any other.

He swallowed just enough to speak. The other, larger side of his mind took control.

“…Please.”

Lucile disappeared, just as he did the first time.

It was disgusting, really. The pleasure Miran was getting from their latest type of encounter. How did this happen? He couldn’t say. Lucile was… difficult at best. He did these things to His Majesty without remorse, then had the gall to come to Miran to gift him the fruits of his labor, as if they meant nothing to him.

It was pointless, from his perspective, unless it was a ploy to gain Miran’s trust… which was possible. But what would he use that trust for? What did a monster of Lucile’s caliber need trust for?

Nothing. He had no need for it.

He had no need for any of this. Miran didn’t need it either, really. He was just greedy.

“……”

He was getting a headache.

\---

Yes, there was a ‘next time.’

Despite Lucile’s general atmosphere of untrustworthiness, he did deliver on his promises. This time, he appeared in Miran’s bedroom soon after he entered with the intention to retire for the night. Although it was rare for his hair to tangle during the day, it often did after bathing, so he brushed it through and allowed it some time to dry before sleeping.

It was at that time that Lucile appeared.

“……”

It felt odd. To see a man invite himself in without knocking, no, without even entering. He was simply there, as if he’d been there for some time, watching quietly and waiting.

“…Do you need something from me?” Miran asked as if he had no idea what Lucile could possibly be there for. What else could he do? Lucile had made a fool out of him the last two times they met. He would not make a fool out of him a third time.

Lucile walked over to where Miran was sitting at the vanity. He didn’t say anything. He just knelt beside him, tilted his head upwards, and opened his eyes.

He didn’t speak. His mouth was, in all likelihood, full just as it was last time.

“…Do you need something?” Miran asked.

Lucile placed a hand on Miran’s. It was not the hand of someone who meant to attack him. It was the hand of someone who wanted something else from him. Miran tensed.

Lucile moved Miran’s hand to his mouth, parted his lips, and took one of Miran’s fingers in it.

“…Is there…?”

Lucile pulled away.

Sure enough, there was a vaguely white fluid on his finger, clearly visible against his dark nails. Miran swallowed the spit in his mouth.

He understood what Lucile wanted. It was their last promise. He knew that. He knew it, but it was still something of a surprise when Lucile touched the fabric of his pants.

Were Lucile’s eyes always that color? It felt as though they rarely locked eyes, but here they were, making eye contact as Lucile pressed his hand against Miran’s clothed cock, intent on fulfilling some nefarious purpose that only he was privy to.

Did he want Miran to cave first? Did he want to force him to remove his own clothes?

Lucile touched his own throat.

It was a threat. It was definitely a threat. ‘Let me do what I came here to do or I’ll swallow it and leave.’

“…Fine,” Miran said. “As you wish.”

As if he wasn’t hard at the mere thought.

He removed his pants. Lucile didn’t hesitate to move the hand from his throat to Miran’s cock. But he didn’t move his mouth.

Why not? Miran wanted to ask him, but Lucile smiled, perfectly aware of what he was doing. It was painful, almost. Being toyed with in this way.

Painful as it was, who was he to stop it now, once it had already begun?

“…Ah…”

It _did_ feel good. That was the point of vices, wasn’t it? To fulfill some transient desire and not much else. This was his vice; allowing Lucile to hold him captive, rewarding him with obedience with his leftovers.

It was pathetic. It was going straight to his cock.

Only then did Lucile mercifully place his full mouth around him.

“Mmh!”

It was wet. It was as much saliva as it was cum, but it was hot, and his body acknowledged it as what it craved. It wanted to push into Lucile. It wanted him to let it.

Nowadays he was greedy. He allowed his body to do what it wanted.

“…Mgh!”

Lucile was surprised enough to make a sound. It was impossible to construe these meetings as Miran’s victories, but in that moment, it felt like he had won.

He was rough with Lucile.

Lucile took it without complaint. He almost seemed to enjoy it after his initial shock. Strange, wasn’t it? The thought of a monster on his knees, sucking a cock that barely fit in his mouth, lubricated with another man’s cum. To think that Lucile was such a disgusting person as to moan through each thrust.

“Mh, mm, ah…!”

It was Lucile’s moans that filled his ears in the moment. It was only later that he realized that he had been making the same noises.

In some ways, they were complete opposites. In others, they were two of a kind.

When he came, Lucile swallowed once, then twice. He swallowed until he was sure that everything was inside of him. After that he remained still, Miran’s cock in his mouth.

It took a moment for Lucile to pull away. Even when he did, he licked the tip of Miran’s cock a couple times. Then, satisfied that he’d swallowed everything, he looked up to Miran who was still trying to catch his breath.

“They’re mixed,” Lucile said, somehow entertained by the thought. “Inside of me…”

“A-ah…”

Lucile laughed. Apparently this was funny to him. “I don’t mind doing this, you know. I’ll go between you two as much as it takes. I’ll let him cum in me next time. Then you can go… or would you rather do it the other way? Do you want Sion to take your leftovers for once?”

This wasn’t the first time Miran had made a deal with a devil, but it was certainly the most shameful.

Miran’s mouth felt dry. A single word was all he could manage.

“…Please.”


End file.
